Fly fishing at La Serpentine & Val d'Allos A fisherman retires from the water’s edge, collects his equipment and begins walking back to his car. On the way, he crosses a farmer who, seeing the rod, net, sling, rucksack and various other accessories smiles at the man facing him. “You know there are no fish in that river?” The fisherman responds; “Why did you have to tell me that!? You’ve just ruined a great day’s fishing” A fisherman retires from the water’s edge, collects his equipment and begins walking back to his car. On the way, he crosses a farmer who, seeing the rod, net, sling, rucksack and various other accessories smiles at the man facing him. “You know there are no fish in that river?” The fisherman responds; “Why did you have to tell me that!? You’ve just ruined a great day’s fishing” To fish is to play nature’s algorithm. Algorithm is the modern-day internet buzz word. Google, Facebook, every trading company on the stock market has their own world-beating secret super computer trick. If you don’t have an algorithm, you can’t demand the big bucks. Nature's algorithm came first, and it's still the one fly fishermen (and us cyclists) love to play the most. No river, no lake, no fish, no fly behaves the same way on any given day. Things change with every cubic metre that flows every second down the river bed, every single day. And that is the point. To fish is to be in nature, to stay in nature and to try to understand nature. Whether we can fully comprehend all the variables is a rhetorical question and one that keeps outdoor lovers coming back for more. To fish is to rise early and be there before the sun lights up the river. Up in the mountains, across the departmental line from the Alpes-Maritimes and into the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence there is a river that flows from a glacier lake into an amphitheater that is a slice of nature's finest offering. A waterway that twists almost as much as the Col de Turini, hiding in the mountains somewhere around 2,000m and surrounded by peaks that extend much, much higher. It is known as La Serpentine, and it rests just below Lac d'Allos, one of France’s most spectacular natural lakes. To fish is to read the river and the environment around you. Where is the sun, is there a blanket of valley floor fog, what is the water temperature, what is the stream flow rate? Where are you on the river; the small pocket flow in the beginning or the traditional runs, riffles, rapids and holes where the river plunges down the mountain side? Are there boulders providing shelter and feeding opportunities for fish in the fast flowing water? Riding the environment is also reading the environment and it is a familiar experience. From the Allos valley up the side road, through the forest and past the tree line to the car park at the trail head that leads us to the river. The climb reminds us that dead-end side roads are usually steeper than the cols that connect the valleys. The rewards are worth the pre-dawn effort. It is pure pleasure to read the environment at La Serpentine. Look up to the towering peaks of Mont Pelat, look down at the dying flowers that have turned from bright purple to ochre brown to indicate the end of both the fishing and competitive cycling season. But look mostly at the magical gradient of colours and textures from the autumn valley floor to the brilliant yellow and blue sunrise lit sky and thank yourself for that 5am rise. To fish is to think like the fish. It is the art of imitation. For a fly fisherman that starts with the fly. You might think the type of fly is the only variation but you would be wrong. For a start we must consider at what stage in the fly's life the desired fish are interested. The nymph, the emerger, the adult. Or the streamer, the bait, the grasshopper. We're told some fishermen can get caught in a fly-tying obsession so badly that they forget to actually go fishing.... At La Serpentine the experienced fisherman (maybe not the cyclist) would recognise the overhanging edge and the undercut of the river's flow which provides the perfect hiding place for the trout. It's relatively shallow, relatively slow moving water. Would you take a nymph instead of an adult fly to tempt an aggressive fish out from beneath the banks? To fish is to perfect your cast. Like fly tying, this is in itself an art form. Search the internet or the never-ending fly fishing guide books and you'll find full dissertations on the methods and the masters of this element of piscary. How will you cast to get a fly pattern that might resemble the real thing? Where will you land the fly? How will you get a good drift towards the hungry prey? Even amateurs can have fun, with the backlight of the sunrise, making shapes with their lines. The leader and the tippet snake their way through the air like the water cuts through the ground. At La Serpentine the swoosh is the only noise that compliments the sound of the river. Like planning a ride, you cast far or short, fast or flowing and see what it brings. To fish is to select your equipment. Rod, reel (or no reel), backing line, leader, tippet, hook, fly, fly box, waders, polaroid sunglasses, net, knife...the list is endless. Preparation is key for success at the water’s edge. For cyclists, Tenkara fly fishing makes a lot of sense. A rod with no reel, a line tied to the end and all foldable into a tube that fits easily on a rear rack or across a handlebar pack. Lightweight and flexible for any opportunity that arises on a gravel ride. To fish is to explore your region and beyond. River basins of the main waterway, fed by the more minor rivers, each river has its different sections. From the source to the sea, rock pools to rapids through boulders. Rivers are a whole book in themselves. Which is why gravel riding and fishing go hand in hand. Away from the road and its temptation of speed, the lure of going far, the ever watchful Strava eyes, gravel slows things down. There is an argument to say the slower you go, the more you appreciate your surroundings. And it forces you to look at different parts of the map. From the Lac d’Allos road, further south there is a dotted line leading to the Cascade de la Lance. Once all the fish are aware of our presence at La Serpentine it is time to change it up – a faster river, more pools, a completely different feeling. To fish is to forget. From one river to the next, from sunrise to sunset, from hiding in the reeds to standing in the pool. Immersing yourself in the activity and its setting. Concentration on the moment to the exclusion of all other things. Like the focus required to climb an hors catégorie climb at the end of a hard ride or to pick a line between the roots and the rocks on a steep chemin. To keep turning the pedals and understand how to conquer the road ahead. To fish is an excuse. An excuse to buy equipment. An excuse to spend hours on maps looking for new locations. An excuse to go to the mountains. An excuse to be by yourself. Does that sound familiar? If nothing else, to fish is another reason to ride.

Where we ride - Local Climbs Explore some of the most celebrated climbs in Europe. And a few less celebrated but no less good. LA MADONE D'UTELLE ALTITUDE: 1174 M LENGTH: 15.30 KM ASCENT: 894 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 5,8 % MAX GRADIENT: 8 % START: SAINT JEAN LA RIVIÈRE VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE TENDE ALTITUDE: 1863 M LENGTH: 7.40 KM ASCENT: 587 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 8.0 % MAX GRADIENT: 18 % START: TENDE TUNNEL VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE LA MADONE ALTITUDE: 925 M LENGTH: 13.30 KM ASCENT: 920 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 7.0 % MAX GRADIENT: 12 % START: MENTON VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE TURINI ALTITUDE: 1604 M LENGTH: 24.00 KM ASCENT: 1244 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 5.2 % MAX GRADIENT: 9.3 % START: SOSPEL VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE VENCE ALTITUDE: 963 M LENGTH: 9.70 KM ASCENT: 643 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 6.63 % MAX GRADIENT: 9.0 % START: VENCE VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE BROUIS ALTITUDE: 879 M LENGTH: 11.90 KM ASCENT: 531 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 4.46 % MAX GRADIENT: 7.3 % START: SOSPEL VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE LA BONETTE ALTITUDE: 2802 M LENGTH: 25.80 KM ASCENT: 1652 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 6.4 % MAX GRADIENT: 15 % START: SAINT-ÉTIENNE-DE-TINÉE VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL D'ÈZE ALTITUDE: 507 M LENGTH: 10.00 KM ASCENT: 490 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 4.9 % MAX GRADIENT: 10 % START: NICE VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA MONT VENTOUX ALTITUDE: 1912 M LENGTH: 22.70 KM ASCENT: 1622 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 7.2 % MAX GRADIENT: 10.8 % START: BEDOIN VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA COL DE BRAUS ALTITUDE: 1002 M LENGTH: 10.30 KM ASCENT: 662 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 6.43 % MAX GRADIENT: 15 % START: L'ESCARÈNE VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA MONT VIAL ALTITUDE: 1549 M LENGTH: 17.60 KM ASCENT: 1195 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 6.79 % MAX GRADIENT: 12.5 % START: VESCOUS VIEW MOREVIA STRAVA

Where we ride - Rides Where we ride is who we are and what we do. All of our clothing is inspired by the roads and routes, both on our doorstep and slightly further afield. VENCE & COL Take the piste cyclable west and then climb the side of the Var valley and over to the pretty artists town of Vence. VIA STRAVA ANTIBES Simply take the cycle path west along the sea front, keeping an eye out for rollerbladers and for cars filtering on and off the main road. ASPREMONT & LEVENS A lot of ups and downs in a short ride here, with the reward of great views over the Var valley, the Alpes Maritimes and the sea. BRAUS & TURINI Two of the big boys of the Alps Maritimes – the beautiful Col de Braus and the imposing Turini. After warming up on the gentle Col de Nice, Braus takes you up sculpted switchbacks to 1,002m. DURANUS & ST. BLAISE Take the cycle path from Nice and then at Saint Laurent du Var take up the Var valley cycle path. It climbs slowly to where the Var, Tinée and Vésubie river gorges meet. THE ESTEREL & TANNERON This route takes you into the Esterel national park west of Cannes. Take a train to Cannes and ride out along the sandy beach or, if you want a long (160km) ride, simply head out along the cycle path from Nice. ÈZE & MADONE This is one of the classic rides of the region, which takes in two legendary climbs and hits you with a 10% slope right at the start while you're still in the middle of town. GILETTE & BONSON The cycle path on the western side of the Var river is an easy and flat route into the arrière pays, the deserted hinterland behind Nice. MORTOLA Head out of Nice towards Monaco, cliffs to your left, sparkling sea to your right and then ride a portion of the famous F1 Grand Prix course in Monte Carlo.

Fête des Zinzins Fête des Zinzins. A celebration of the Brevet des Zinzins de Turini for a select group of cycling assassins. Assassins trained to kill cols with their legs using only carbon, a bit of forged aluminum, and a lot of force and determination. These are those willing and, maybe-hopefully-possibly, capable of three times Turini. Scaling each side of the mountain triangle, that is no mean human feat. Kieran, Valentin, Saif, Pierre, Sonny, Thierry, Matthew, Nico et Denis. Each to a man possess the correct amount of mental (dys)functions when it comes to two-wheeled challenges. Tenacity, curiosity, audacity...and maybe a little crazy - French translation : zinzin. It’s almost an hour’s riding from the Café to the first control stamp at Pan d'Aqui, L'Escarène - the boulangerie beside the bridge. The bread had been cooked, the question on everyone's mind was how well done their legs would be by the end of the day. 'Bien cuit, bien sûr’ Old bornes are the best bornes. This one, at Lucéram is an in-house Café favourite, apart from the remaining distance indicated. It's a full 27kms for the FIRST climb from L'Escarène via Lucéram. Do not rush, let the mountain rhythm come to you. The twisting and turning really starts between the Pas de l'Escous and the Baisse de la Cabanette. That’s a 'pas', then a 'baisse' before the premier arrival at the col. It takes a lot of research and debate to distinguish between these three terms relating to peaks, points and passages in the mountains. Multi-layered folds of the earth's crust criss-crossed with mazes of quiet roads linking the perched hamlets to the valley villages below are part of what make Turini so special. It takes a brave Zinzin to race another on this Brevet. This group is crazy, not stupid and so riders find their place on the road based on pace. Pierre, Matthew and Nico show their form at the front, Thierry and Denis share memories of previous adventures, the Micheline brothers Valentin and Sonny admire each other's cycling jerseys, whilst Saif and Ivan appreciate the place as it's Saif's first visit. What a way to introduce yourself to Turini. Through Peïra-Cava and into the freshness of the alpine forest on the cooler north side of the mountain. The first arrival at the col is barely acknowledged given the task ahead. But then the stamping of the cards amongst the pinball machine collection that resides in the bar attached to Hotel Les Chamois is a clear yellow and black marker of the achievement so far. When pondering a challenge based on climbing it's all too easy to forget the other not so insignificant part of the ride. Down to Sospel takes approximately 45 mins which is an indication of both the length and complexity of the southern facing side. It requires both effort and concentration and is no small part in the challenge of this Brevet. The group lines out for the hairpins nestled below the Notre dame de Menaour. Sospel is known more as a mountain bike town. Today it's central fountain is zinzin. Denis is feeling the heat. Maybe it's the fatigue of the new baby in the house and not just the high 20's barometer reading. Immersion in the water is the only option. Water, food, cards stamped, the group turns around quickly, eager to get the second ascension in the bag because two thirds is better than one half. After the fact it is common perception that the 24km climb from Sospel is the hardest. Changes in pitch, the heat of the Gorge du Piaon, the rough road surface after Moulinet, the painted kilometre count-down in the unrelenting 8% of the forest at the top all contribute to a testing second climb. Counting switchbacks in the forest becomes difficult as the trees block visual reference points and the gradient never relents. Tiredness affects judgement and the col is hidden from view. Why do humans always push their limits this way and in others? To create a sense of control over themselves, or their surroundings? Is it a kind of self-destruction? Simple endorphin addiction? There is logic (but also a certain lack of fear) in the statement that you cannot know where the limit is if you never go past it. On this particular day for some of the Zinzins, two climbs was the limit. The beauty of an open brevet, however, is that it will always be there to be ridden when time, weather and form allows. There is no number to be pinned, no entry fee to be paid. Just an old-fashioned card to be stamped in an old-fashioned manner to justify some good old-fashioned simple mountain riding. And thus the selection for the third and final up-and-down was made, with Pierre, Matthew and Nico still all looking frustratingly fresh and even excited at the prospect. The third descent has been referred to in Cyclist Magazine as 'the best in the world'. Consistent surface, corners with predictable radii and good visibility for a majority of the road all mean that speeds are as a high as the fun factor. La Bollène-Vesubie is the sleepiest of the three base towns of the Turini. Perched two kilometres above the Vesubie valley it could be tempting to stay and then roll down beside the river back to the seaside. However, with a Brevet card five-sixths full, abandoning now is not an option. Settle in and pedal for somewhere between one to one-and-a-quarter hours to Zinzin glory. The remaining group make it look easy. At this stage rhythm is there. Bodies and minds have accepted this mountain and the effort required to climb it. At the top there is even the energy for a race to the summit between wheelie-pulling Nico and Matthew. Pierre trails by a few seconds but pulls a Contador-style pistol in front of an infectious smile, letting out a bit of his internal crazy in a moment of finish-line happiness.   RIDERS' NOTES Discover the Brevet des Zinzins de Turini HERE Komoot Route Footnotes: Photography : Matt Wragg

DUE NORTH It must be a common thought amongst many cyclists faced with a point to point journey. "Why not do that by bike some day?" Turning two hours in a pressurised cabin full of recycled air with 100 plus strangers into a seven day, fresh air adventure across an entire country between three close friends. An adventure that distills cycling down to its core. From the minutiae of pre-ride planning to the moral fibre of our chosen sport or, dare we say it, our lifestyle. Turning two hours in a pressurised cabin full of recycled air with 100 plus strangers into a seven day, fresh air adventure across an entire country between three close friends. An adventure that distills cycling down to its core. From the minutiae of pre-ride planning to the moral fibre of our chosen sport or, dare we say it, our lifestyle. So what about joining the Café du Cycliste dots and connecting HQ on the Old Port to the flagship store in the City? Nice to London. Sun to the City.     It was a task deserving of our resident long distance expert, Matthieu, aka Manivelle.cc. A flâneur on a bike, Matthieu was instantly and slightly over-enthusiastically committed to the concept. Even it if means riding from sun, into headwind, into rain. It is London, England after all. But first thing is France. Or to be more or less precise, her many regions and the bounty that their diverse landscapes provide. And for bounty, of course, read wine. Enter Elisabeth. Très française, très gentil, très bien éduquée dans au vin. Elisabeth likes to dance, she likes to cycle, but most of all, she likes wine. Gregory makes up the triumvirate. Born in Lyon, living in Berlin, Europe is his playground. He says his accomplices are drinkers with a cycling problem, a statement which will be tested out on the road. Details. Pre-departure is all about the details. The equipment: luggage and luggage packing, tyres and tyre pressures, clothing and clothing accessories, spares and second spares. And a knife. Always take a knife. The route. Planning progress against preferred minor road choices. Planning around the weather. Planning the mid-morning, mid-day, mid-afternoon stops. Planning the over-night halts. And planning the drinks menu. The finest of each region. Bandol, Côteaux Aix-en-Provence, Chateauneuf du Pape, right up to Calvados before the channel hop. All has to be thought about. On the road. The cold snowy winter pushed the pencil line on the map west of any possible mountain traverses. A precautionary trajectory was made along the coast towards Fréjus before cutting north west on a few higher roads leading to the Rhone valley. Riding out any unexpected faults in preparation, and settling into the task ahead. A little over 230kms as a prologue. And a refreshing rosé to end the first day. Once in the valley for Day Two, it was a game of dare and double dare with the wind. As happens, the triumvirate lost. In other words, 228kms into a headwind. Had it been day five, it could have broken morale quite quickly. But as it is, an Audax a day keeps the doctor away, and London in sight. The following days promised small roads, winding between rapeseed fields and small villages with cafés with eccentric patrons. Behaviour changes on a multi-day brevet. From civilized humans, a certain devolution takes place, and primal behaviours begin to dominate. The days and the kilometres pass by with a disconcerting sweetness, but preservation of the body is the primary concern. Listen to its hunger, its thirst. Locate the good bakeries and shops where quick refuelling can take place - fruit, sweets, peanuts, the best grab and go snacks you can find. That way the length of the stops are minimized. Sweeping, curving roads wind out in front and behind, caressing the undulations of the landscape and slowly becoming hypnotic. The details are now buried in a pile of kilometres and a million pedal revolutions. It becomes difficult to know which day it is and where exactly you are riding. The beep of the Garmin indicates the next route marker. Follow with familiarity and trust. Due North is becoming embedded in the internal global positioning systems of the three riders and eventually long distance becomes a constant motion blur. They skirt the big cities, barely touching them. Outsiders, traversing a country without a steel cage and a motor. Our nation's capital is avoided and suddenly, in the blink of a long-distance eye, after saying goodbye to the Mediterranean a few days ago, there is Dieppe and the return of the sea. Euphoria seizes everyone. The port also realigns the senses. It must mean it is Friday, as planned. France has been conquered in the allotted six days and the only thing hidden from customs before boarding the ferry is the 1200kms in the legs. The bottles of cider and calvados, on the other hand, are fully declared. A new day in Newheaven. On the road it feels like relearning everything again. It's the first time all three cyclists have ridden in England. Everything is upside down and details try to sneak back into a consciousness that had become accustomed to the flow of France. The English version of cycle friendly, quiet paths resemble mountain bike pistes rather than pistes cyclables. Progress feels worryingly slow. Thankfully, with 150kms to go to London, three friends are riding to meet the trio. At East Grinstead, they come together for an escort into the City. And here it is. A surreal sixty minutes traversing London, trying to make it in time for the shop closing. With twenty minutes to spare there is champagne in the city, on the footpath outside Café du Cycliste London. Three French friends who don't really know yet what they've just done. There is nothing else for it but to go to the pub, wash it all down with a few beers and celebrate the fact that they pierced France like an arrow and hit bullseye, right on time, in central London. RIDERS' NOTES Strava File - https://www.strava.com/activities/1526572500 Footnotes: Photography : Manivelle.cc

Haute couture cap Madame Marnier-Lapostolle was simply seeking to downsize. Thirty-five acres of gardens, an Olympic-size swimming pool and room for 30 horses had become a bit of burden. She should have known the house sale might have caused a few ripples in the global property pond. It is after all Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. And since M. Marnier-Lapostolle put up a price tag of 1.1 billion dollars for her too-big-to-maintain Villa les Cèdres, the small peninsula beside Villefranche is known as the most expensive real estate in the world. It didn’t used to be that way. Cap Ferrat and, in fact, much of the French Riviera, was just normal coast line where normal people had their normal holidays. One-piece bathing suits and big hair capped in bonnets to enjoy the sun and the sea. It took nearly 30 years after the original construction of Grand Hotel Cap Ferrat for the tide to turn from aristocrats wintering on the coast to artists and beatniks coming for summer sun in the early 1930s. The tide changed partly due to the filming of Don Quioxte by a German filmmaker. The film’s crew stayed in the hotel during the production and were so influenced by the beauty of the location that they returned with their families the next year. After the Second World War that came as close as destroying the lighthouse beside the hotel, the bohemians arrived in the summer in deliberate contrast to the wintering elite. At the start of the peninsula, where Villefranche simultaneously merges into Cap Ferrat and Beaulieu-sur-Mer, is Villa Nellcôte. It's here that exile by the tax man led to Exile on Main Street. Avoiding 93% income tax, the Stones turned the baroque building, also a former Gestapo HQ, into an open house party venue with a recording studio in the vast but damp and dingy basement. The Provençal air and sea views allowed the sparks to ignite and create one of the band’s most famous albums. Nowadays bankers and industrialists reportedly own most of the villas that hide amongst the cedar trees behind faux hedges and high walls. It’s ironic that the other original crown jewel of the Cap is the Villa de Rothschild, built by Beatrice Ephrussi de Rothschild from the original and famous banking family. Rumour has it that the Villa is currently being sold. If that is the case then Madame Marnier-Lapostolle’s sale might be surpassed. In between the villas and the super-yachts is the sentier littoral, the walking path which outlines the entire cap and links the bays and beaches. You can isolate yourself from the headlines and the temptation to peak through the holes in the high hedges and over the automatic gates and soak in the light that Matisse and others so adored. And with that light you can forget the attention grabbing headlines and speculative price-tags and enjoy the place for what has been described as 'an earthly slice of paradise'.

Due north: Sun to the city Since our London Store opened, it's been on the 'to do' list. The task? Join the Café du Cycliste dots and ride from HQ in Nice to the big smoke. It's a self-made Audax of sorts and a ride of contrasts. Traverse the mother land and soak in the wine and the paysage, hop the channel and ride the relatively short distance to the City and all it's English-ness. Who better to complete the task than three long-distance amigos. They were Born To Ride together - completing Chilkoot's longest event in 2016 from Vézelay to Barcelona. Since then, the trio have been everywhere and anywhere but not so much together. On Sunday they are reunited to head Due North. Meet the team: Matthieu aka Manivelle : long-distance lover, ambassador, graphic designer and general flâneur on a bike. He nearly bit our hand off when we first suggested the adventure. Since then he's be planning, drawing, rounding up the troops and generally whipping up a storm. Elisabeth : teacher, but more importantly a meticulous long-distance randonneur. Everything must be correct, organised, and prepped. Rumour has it she will be the beer and wine expert to ensure recovery is taken seriously each evening. Gregory : TCR NO.3 Finisher, Lyonnais living in Berlin. His instagram profile states 'why have abs when you can have kebabs'. We think Gregory won't be disappointed with the food options when he gets to London. The route card details a parcours measuring 1,400kms, consisting of seven days and one ferry. Their schedule, including drinks, is as follows: Day No. / Kms / Hydration J1 : 235 — Midi : Bandol • Soir : Coteaux d'Aix-en-Provence J2 : 240 — Midi : Chateauneuf du Pape • Soir : Côte Rôtie J3 : 235 — Midi : Beaujolais • Soir : Givry J4 : 220 — Midi : Bière de Vezelay • Soir : Chablis J5 : 220 — Midi : Bière Crazy Hops • Soir : Jasnières J6 : 125 + FERRY — Midi : cidre • Soir : Calvados J7 : 160 — Midi & Soir : Bière » Arrivée Café du Cycliste London Look out for stories on our Instagram account to follow the journey.

Les Courses Disparues #5 : Mont Faron “COURTE MAIS DIFFICILE!” "Viens poupoule, viens poupoule, viens..." So sang Félix Mayol, the actor and singer who was Toulon’s brightest star for the first few decades of the 1900s. He returned to fire the starter’s pistol, releasing the riders to chase the summit of the town’s geographical crown and high-wire finish of our latest Course Disparue – Mont Faron Mayol may not have been on the same level as the A-list Hollywood stars that graced Cannes but that somehow suits the naval port of Toulon with its shipyards, rugby team and strong working-class identity. In its heyday 50,000 supporters would turn out to catch not only a glimpse of the City’s prodigal son, but also Europe’s finest riders. The founding newspapers l’Echo des Sports and Le Journal had done their job in converting their readership to the spectacle of bicycle racing on the Côte d’Azur. Originally a course en ligne in 1920, the first iteration of the race was run in the same format as a classic road race but with a twist. At only five kilometres in length but climbing 500 metres in the process makes the maths easy – one in ten and therefore one for the climbers. Mont Faron was their amphitheatre, standing dominant over Toulon. The parcours would take riders from the Maritime Hospital, up the narrow and winding road and past the “Trou du Diable”, a ravine over 100m deep and where the gradient would kick up to over 14%, before reaching the summit. A special ingredient of the Lost Races was the ability of amateurs to put themselves up again the big names. Louis Minardi was a local niçois climbing specialist, who raced for l’A.V.A.N Cycling Club. In 1930 he won both the race to La Turbie and the G.P de Nice. But few predicted he would be able to take on the pro riders from around Europe, including none other than the domineering Pélissier brothers. The other special ingredient of these races is that, being one day, and sometimes short format events, miracles can happen. From start to finish Minardi rode “complètement déchainé” – completely unchained. By the time he reached the Trou du Diable he’d already built a lead of over 100 metres and from there he didn’t look back and crossed the line a full 500m ahead of the chasers. Mont Faron proved to be a springboard for Minardi. He won at Mont Agel a few weeks later and took third place at the prestigious GP de Cannes. He would eventually make a name for himself on the “demi-fond” (middle-distance) circuit, becoming French champion in 1939. After the war, in 1952, a contre-la-montre event was added to the race schedule. The time trial parcours differed from the “course en ligne”; starting near Hyères further west along the coast, running flat through La Valette and into Toulon, then finishing with the famous 5km climb up Mont Faron. In all totalling around 26km, the flat départ and summit arrivée required a mix of flat out speed and controlled climbing that would make the race a unique challenge It’s well documented that l’Éternel Second, Raymond Poulidor, could climb with the best of them but his passage to the top step of the podium was blocked by Monsieur Chrono himself, Jacques Anquetil. In 1961 the Mont Faron race was a watershed moment for Poupou, during the season when he revealed himself as a true contender. He won Milan-San Remo in stunning style, surprising all the favourites; leaving Rik Van Looy perplexed as to who this young Frenchman was. At the Mont Faron chrono, Anquetil, Bahamontes, Bobet and Dotto were all on the starting list. Poulidor was going up against the masters of each trade. It was on the second part of the course, the climb, that Poulidor made his mark, posting a finishing time sixteen seconds ahead of the Spaniard. The results confirmed his potential and the headlines read: “Poulidor meilleur escaladeur que Bahamontes!” – “Poulidor, a better climber than Bahamontes”. The rest is history, although with hindsight perhaps the headlines should have read “Poulidor bat Anquetil contre la montre”. However, Bahamontes was the real King of Faron. He had an affinity with the races of the Côte d’Azur, taking his first professional victory in 1954 on the similar Nice - Mont Agel course en ligne, and following it up one year later with his premier win on Faron. Whilst some of the top riders elected to only ride the TT, Bahamontes enjoyed the prospect of a pure climber’s race, and would regularly compete in both, presumably to sharpen his early season form. It worked. He won the course en ligne three times and took four time-trial titles, and in the process put Poulidor back in his natural position. The Eagle spread his wings over Mont Faron. The final running of the Le Mont Faron in 1970 was a beginning for a young Bernard Thévenet, who took his first professional win. The race may have been lost but the climb remained iconic, featuring in the 1957 tour, the Paris-Nice many times (including a revolutionary descending prize just like recent and controversial Giro d'Italia project) and as a part of the furniture on the Tour Méditerranéen. But alas the road is too narrow and the races and their caravans are too large. Whilst it may have been deemed too “small” by the powers that be, it’s here, in our region, to be ridden and many can attest to the fact that it’s more “difficile” than “courte”. RIDERS’ NOTES A one-way system is now in place on the road up, over and down Mont Faron. If you want to ride your own approximation of the course en ligne, simply follow the Mont Faron STRAVA SEGMENT To enjoy the area we suggest you ride west towards Bormes-les-Mimosa and follow the route of Jean Bobet's beautifully described La Volupté. Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series. Photography : Antton Miettinen

WHERE TO RIDE FROM NICE – ÈZE & MADONE This is one of the classic rides of the region, which takes in two legendary climbs and hits you with a 10% slope right at the start while you're still in the middle of town. The Grande Corniche is the highest road heading east from Nice, and is the scene of the Col d'Èze Time Trial, a traditional finishing stage of Paris-Nice. Sean Kelly held the record for climbing this for years, until Bradley Wiggins beat him in 2012. At the top, grab a coffee or refill your water bottle in La Turbie, then descend to Menton where the climb to the Col de la Madone begins. The Madone has been the training ground of Tony Rominger, Lance Armstrong and many others, and is a tough yet beautiful climb, quiet and never too steep, with great sea views into Italy. From the top of the Madone it’s a technical descent to the T junction near Peille and then a gentle downhill back to La Turbie where, after another coffee perhaps, you take the Moyenne Corniche back into town. key kit Dorothée Gilet. The road off the back of the Madone and valley ride back to La Turbie can be chilly at either end of the day. Pack a superlight gilet that will keep you protected on the long descent back to Nice. VIEW THE GILET RIDE INSIGHTS The Best Socca In The World is a matter of opinion but comes after a classic niçoise ride out west on the Grande Corniche over Col d’Eze to Menton before turning north and then east over the infamous Col de la Madone. READ MORE 1 - THE ROUTE DOWNLOAD GPX Please login or create an account to download file. 2 - RENT AND RIDE Travel light and book your bike. We offer a range of rental bikes, the R5 Cervelo road bike and the Aspero Cervelo gravel bike along with titanium road bikes from French marque Leon. Each bike is complete with pedals, tool bag and rear light while, if needed, each rental can also include Specialized shoes and helmet. VIEW OUR RENTAL BIKES 3 - THE CAFÉ Located on the Old Port, our café is the prefect pre and post-ride meeting place. With some routes that begin almost outside, excellent coffee and a full range of our clothing collections for men and women. There are weekly rides as well if you’d like to discover riding on the Cote D’Azur with like minded companions. You can find us at: 16 Quai des Docks 06300 Nice other rides When the ville of Nice decided to use #nicecyclingparadise to promote the grand depart of the 2020 Tour de France, there was definite method in the madness. If Paradise Lost has over ten thousand lines of verse, this cycling paradise found has almost as many routes, roads, stretches, views, climbs, cols, lacets, stops and starting points. Enough at least to satisfy even the most discerning cyclist. NISSA ALL-ROAD Linking two classic Alpes-Maritimes cols via a gravel ridge-line ride on a loop that takes you from portside to the heart of the mountains and back again. VIEW THE RIDE MONT CHAUVE Mont Chauve, known as Nice’s ‘bald mountain’, proves that nature constructed one of the best viewpoints the city has to offer. VIEW THE RIDE BONETTE Join the climb directly from the village and get ready for a day of zero flat riding by climbing and descending both sides of the mountain,. VIEW THE RIDE Cap d'Antibes A classic Cote d’Azur roll-out that hugs the sea heading west and arrives at one of the region’s most well-known towns. Ideal out of season when the heat is lowered and the town itself is quiet. VIEW THE RIDE Gilette & Bonson The extraordinary back country of Nice opens up behind the coast and this ride provides easy access. Enough climbing to be a challenge without being too daunting. VIEW THE RIDE Esterel & Adrets This route takes you into the Esterel national park west of Cannes. Take a train to Cannes and ride out along the sandy beach – or, if you want a long (160km) ride, simply head out along the cycle path from Nice. VIEW THE RIDE Mortola Ride a portion of the famous F1 Grand Prix course in Monte Carlo, and then climb out towards Menton, the last town in France, and over the border. It may be short but it includes two countries and into one principality. VIEW THE RIDE Vence It includes a col from our Montaignes a la Carte series as well as unforgettable views and a route away from the madding crowds. Climb the side of the Var valley and over to the pretty artists’ town of Vence itself. VIEW THE RIDE BRAUS & TURINI A ride that includes two of the majestic cols from our Montaignes a la Carte series. VIEW THE RIDE DURANUS & SAINT BLAISE Head up the valley to where three rivers meet, climb higher still and take the time to look around. VIEW THE RIDE Our Badges To celebrate the local climbs and the roads we ride, we’ve created a badge for each of our local cols, collected together in our Montagne à la Carte series. The hard part of collecting your badge is climbing the col. Do the ride and claim the badges for Col d'Éze and Col de la Madone. HOW TO CLAIM A BADGE

Les Courses Disparues #4 : Grand Prix de Cannes From the Palais des Festivals on the Croisette in Cannes to the Col de l’Ecre it’s only 34kms. Red carpet to 1,118m in a heart beat. Or several beats per minute if you are racing one of Les Courses Disparues on the Côte d’Azur, like Grand Prix de Cannes. This Lost Race has an illustrious list of winners. Le Roi René Vietto, Louison Bobet, Rudi Altig, Frans Verbeeck, Sean Kelly, Sean Yates and Laurent Fignon have all stood on the top step of the podium. Cannes has a reputation built entirely on 20th century villas from the Belle Époque, sunny sandy beaches and the red carpet of the Palais des Festivals. Like the film festival, the alure of the race was in no doubt partly because of its location and the entertainment provided to the touring elite. Given the location, you might be forgiven for thinking the race was one for sprinters. Indeed, Sean Kelly and the rouleur Sean Yates both took victories. But Yates only found success after a winter of exile in an apartment which he had decided would be a food-free zone. With its profil acéré – sharp, like sharks’ teeth - and distances of up to 200kms, it was a one-day classic climb-fest. Early years saw the race go west on the coast to the Corniche d’Or before returning through the hills and red rock of the Esterel national park. Racers then flashed back through the Croissette for the fans on their way east to Antibes before climbing to Vence, then above to Gourdon, just below the snow line. Then came the rush back to town, sometimes with the montée de Cabris to provide a final test and give any escapees with a chance to stay away. It was an important race in the calendar that came at the end of the first week of racing on the Côte d’Azur. The professionals had been on the coast for maybe two months or more. The training blocks under the winter sun were done, au bord du la mer or in the collines behind. Now came the time to fine-tune form in race conditions before the Spring Classics or early stage races like Paris-Nice. Whilst the Boucle de Sospel and Col de Braus are more recognized as the building blocks of René Vietto’s professional career, the GP de Cannes was literally his hometown race. The Cannois unsurprisingly holds the record number of victories, having taken back-to-back victories in 1932 and 1933 as he announced himself on the professional circuit. Post-war, towards the end of his career and after opening his own bike shop in the town, Vietto lined up for one final fling. Having been involved in choosing the parcours for the 1948 edition, the organisers, the locals even the commissaire expected nothing less than glory. But Italian grimpeur Paul Néri, winner of the race two years previously, had other ideas and attacked on the Col de Gourdon. It forced Vietto and compatriat Edouard Fachleitner to chase and when the catch was made, a hectic descent from Grasse to Cannes ensued. As they kicked for the line Néri, the better sprinter, tried to catch Vietto unaware by going up the narrow left side, shouting at him to get out of the way. Vietto was not going to give up his last Grand Prix de Cannes and squeezed Néri out to take the win, but he was outraged at Néri’s tactics. A brawl ensued before René’s entourage restrained him. This was René's race. Sometimes the race started before the ‘b’ of the bang. With the weeks of February and March filled with races, there was a lot of talk amongst the professionals about who was racing where. Combined with the threat to forme and health by riding in unpredictable weather, the gamesmanship began days before a wheel was turned. In 1964 it was a mise-en-scène of the battle between two giants of French cycling. Both Jacques Anquetil and Raymond Poulidor decided not to race the Prix de Saint-Raphäel the day before GP de Cannes due to icy rain and low temperatures. Poulidor was motivated “Je suis solide et dur au mal” – I am strong and tough. (Needless to say he had finished second in the race the previous year.) Anquetil stated if the bad weather continued he would not risk his season just for one race, whilst also relaying his soigneur’s reports that he was strong and recovering from training efforts faster than ever. Another second place for Pou-Pou? Come the day of the race, Anquetil remained quiet, tucked deep in the peloton to shelter from any possible bad weather. Poulidor was active. At the front, he attacked with 35kms to go on the Côte de Cabris, a tactic local racers didn’t recommend – as Raoul Rémy had shouted at Louison Bobet in 1954, “no one has ever won the GP de Cannes by attacking so early in the race”. Anquetil did not chase. With Jeannine Anquetil waiting with the car in case her husband wanted to abandon, obviously the pre-race talk was not a bluff. Poulidor soloed to victory, proving his form that season and to himself and the world that in a climbing tête-a-tête, he could beat Maître Jacques. The response? “It's long season, very long. And we'll have time to fight, Raymond and me.” And so it was, for more than one season. The combination of the early season date and one-day race format made the Grand Prix de Cannes attractive to the big names and the neo-pros alike. Maybe that is why it enjoyed a longer life into the 1980s and 90s. It grew in strength and attracted the big teams, like Renault-Elf and their latest signing, Laurent Fignon. In his words, “I was a good new professional, but nothing out of the ordinary. Except that a few days later (sic – after being passed then re-passing Joop Zoetemelk on the Mont Faron time trial) I won the Grand Prix de Cannes”. It got him noticed. The following Monday during another one day race, La Flèche Azurènne, his team mates rode for him and not local favourite, Charly Bérard. Another french cycling legend had been born. Beneath the town's glitter and bling, away from the steps of the Palais des Festivals, the GP de Cannes proves that the Côte d’Azur was (and still is) where spring classic wins, grand tour glories, professional careers and legends began life. Vietto, Bobet, Anquetil, Pouildor, Fignon. Pillars of French cycling with foundations laid on the Riviera. Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series. _____________________ RIDERS' NOTES We would recommend splitting it into two rides, with one westerly adventure to the beautiful l'Esterel and one east and north to Vence and eventually over the Col de l'Ecre.

Les Courses Disparues #3 : GP de Monaco The night before the race, Eddy Merckx arrived in Monaco with no less than six Molteni team-mates. The brief was simple. Start fast, thin out the group, make it hard for everyone. As they left the Principality the next day and rode west on the Basse Corniche, that’s exactly what they did. Arriving at Villefranche, the last town before Nice, the peloton was positively atkins-esque, dropping from 140 to 21. Game on. The race Merckx was strangling in his Cannibal grip was the Grand Prix de Monaco, the next in our series of Les Courses Disparues - the Lost Races of the Côte d’Azur The words Grand Prix and Monaco usually prompt images of the Principality in petrol-head mode. The cycling version, like it’s motorised counterpart, for sure attracted the big names – the Bobets, Geminiani, Merckx, de Vlaeminck, Roche and Kelly to name a few. Run mostly in February, like so many of the other Lost Races of the Cote d’Azur, it was an early season test of form. And with the attention-grabbing name and location, the history books show a series of teams trying to control what turned out to be an uncontrollable race. Molteni, Renault-Gitane, Peugeot… all of them tried to rule with a train of riders. The parcours was no coastal coast to a sprint finish, as the grande cyclistes would find out. Riders covered four laps of Les Trois Corniches, the three coast roads carved into the mountain side running between Nice and Menton – out on the Basse Corniche beside the sea, back three times on the Moyenne Corniche cut into the rocks around 200-400m above, before the final lap up to the Grande Corniche running near the top of the ridge. More than 160kms of that James Bond-esque loop helped whittle down the field before the crucial point of the race. The climb of the Château de Madrid, coming after approximately 150kms, made the link between the Moyenne and Grande Corniches and it was here the selection was normally made. It’s only a climb of 2kms but the gradient doesn’t relent until the point de vue Saint-Michel, over looking some of the most expensive real estate in the world situated on Cap Ferrat. And once on the Grand Corniche, it is up, ever up on the road to Col d’Eze. Tactic : attack before Saint-Michel and then hold it over the top before the eyeballs-out descent back to Monaco. The famous black and white checkers of the Peugeout Team came in 1981 as part of their season build up. Within that team was the Irish neo-pro, Stephen Roche. It was the year of his rise to fame. He won the Tour de Course, beating a certain Bernard Hinault, and also took the Paris-Nice. (In hindsight, maybe an early indication of his fondness for the south of France.) Roche was in the lead group as it hit the Château du Madrid hill and he used it as a launch pad to try and escape to victory. But he couldn’t shake the French riders Bernard Bourreau and Jean-René Bernadudeu. The three of them descended the Grande Corniche into Monaco and it was Bernadudau, now directeur sportif of Direct Énergie pro-continental team, who took the sprint. Roche only second as a reward for his attacking efforts. Two years later, in the last edition of the race, the other dominant Irish rider of the 80’s, Sean Kelly, found himself in a peloton chasing a breakaway led by in-form Kim Anderson that had escaped on the third pass through Monaco. Having lost a further 2'40' on the Château du Madrid climb, the peloton led, it can only be imagined, by Kelly and his infamous descending skills, chased the breakaway down the Grande Corniche towards Roquebrune. But once again the complex nature of the parcours proved impossible to predict. Anderson, riding for Coop – Mercier – Mavic, managed to stay away for the win by a slender 14 seconds. Kelly took the sprint, but in the process merely added his name to the list of illustrious second place finishers. If a climber and a sprinter and classics rider couldn’t crack the GP de Monaco code surely The Cannibal could? As if following a script, the fireworks were again on that small road with the Spanish-style villa. Frenchman Désiré Letort attacked first. Merckx responded. Then fellow Belgian, Frans Verbeeck, kicked last, and hardest. They could not shake Merckx and two of his Molteni men. The group of 21 became nine and the odds were in Merckx’s favour for the sprint on Monaco’s portside. Clearly confident, he launched himself early but Verbeeck came round him with nearly 200m to go and took one of the biggest wins of his career. Verbeeck, known as one of the hardest of the hard Flandrians went on, some would say, to becoming obsessed with beating Merckx in one of the Monuments . Maybe that obsession started after this victory in the GP de Monaco. Although he won a number of classics, like Amstel Gold (on the same year he won the GP de Monaco) he didn’t manage to take down the Cannibal where it mattered to him. But he’ll always have that Lost Race on the Côte d’Azur. Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series.

Les Courses Disparues #2 : Boucle de Sospel The René Vietto memorial at the top of Col de Braus sits so discretely in the parking area opposite the col sign, that you could easily miss it. As well as the memorial there is a wooden sign marking this as the Aire René Vietto. You might be more accustomed to seeing an ‘aire’ on the French autoroute – the service stations where you can get a very thick sandwich and bitter coffee whilst the rest of the traffic races by. As it turns out the aire Vietto used to be passed by racing traffic for a solid 26 years between 1922 and 1948. It was the half-way point and the main event of our next Course Disparue – Le Boucle de Sospel. Unlike Nice – Mont Agel, the Boucle de Sospel was not for the big names of the relatively new world of professional cycling. It was for the local amateurs and the ‘débutants’- the up and coming juniors. And as a breeding ground for local talent, the Boucle bore fruit from its rugged Alpes-Maritimes terroir. It was also inter-changeably known as Le Boucle de L’USTNL (Union Sportive des Tramways de Nice et du Littoral) the organising club, whose employer’s objective was to build a network linking Nice to several towns along the coast and the hinterlands with railways, just like the abandoned one that can still be seen on the Col de Castillon. They undoubtedly had sporting objectives but their partner, L’Eclaireur de Nice, followed the established trend amongst the bigger national publications of boosting circulation by making news with bike racing. As a valley town in the Alpes-Maritimes, the only way in and out of Sospel is by col. Three Cols – Nice, Braus and Castillon - provided the loop into the mountains and back to the coast at Menton. And the climbing did not stop there. The final ascent of the Grande Corniche to the town of La Turbie, meant a climb literally from sea level back up to 658m. The finish on Boulevard de Risso within the city limits, ensured the viewing public could enjoy the finale at their convenience. That said, city centre finales created their own problems: during the 1930 edition a young couple crossing the road caused the race leader, Amilcar Cavandoli, to crash and be passed by the winner Charles de Ambrosi as he desperately remounted his bike. But it was rare that the peloton arrived together in Nice. From the beginning, the race was a war of attrition - during the first edition in 1922 the race blew to pieces on the Col de Nice and the bunch reduced itself from 75 to 16. This ‘gentle’ 6.5kms climb may not have been critical in the race’s outcome but it was where the selection was made and usually formed the group from which the vainqueur would emerge. To summit the Col de Nice is to pass through the gateway to the mountains, and for the Boucle de Sospel it was into the amphitheatre for the main act of this play – the Col de Braus. It was on the slopes of the 10km climb that winner of the first edition, Second Ganora, managed to escape from the leading pack and stay away for victory. A long solo victory, that is every racing cyclist’s dream. The Braus was a launchpad to success. And it is undoubtedly René Vietto’s climb. In 1931 he was one of the debutants to line up at Place des XV Corps at the tender age of 16. His youth goes some way to explaining why he didn’t dominate the race. But his natural climbing ability meant he was part of the select group that arrived first on the Col de Braus. The weather was bad, with rain and fog making visibility difficult. There were attacks on the ascent and descent of the Braus. Vietto remained in the chasing pack, and it was only in the last climb to La Turbie that he let his ability loose and reeled in the leaders. Vietto rode into Nice with Paolo Bianchi and took the sprint by a bike length. In 1934 René returned to the Boucle parcours, but not in the local race. It was the year of his Tour debut, during which he announced himself as one of the best grimpeurs in the world. He dominated the traverse of the Alps taking two stage victories by soloing over the Galibier and then repeating the feat over the Col de Vars and Col d’Allos, where the high alps meet the Alpes-Maritimes. The final alpine stage followed an extended version of the Boucle de Sospel route, finishing in René's hometown of Cannes, rather than Nice. It was written.... Just like his win in 1931, the weather turned bad immediately after the stage départ. But this time Vietto did not wait in the pack. On the Braus he attacked and established a gap. He rode solo until Guiseppe Martano, who was second in the general classification, surprised yellow jersey holder Antonin Magne and managed to bridge the gap across to Vietto. But René had arrived on the coast to go tête-à-tête before. He kept his head to take the sprint and an extremely emotional third stage victory in his hometown. We can only guess that was his most valued victory, together with the first on his palmares on the same course. The Braus was part of him and René asked for his ashes to be scattered on its slopes when he died. And what of the amateurs? There are many names of which will only be known to their descendants and locals. But one stands out. Prince Igor Troubetzkoy was a french born Russian aristocrat. And a sports fanatic. He was a skier but showed more potential on the bike. And off it he became the fourth husband of socialite and heiress, Barbara Hutton, which gained him fame. But sport was his passion and he swooped to victory in the 1933 Boucle, before he eventually settled on his real love, car racing. He won the Targa Florio and then drove the first Ferrari to be entered into a Grand Prix - none other than the Monaco GP in 1948. It is noteable that the race continued to be held for the majority of the duration of the war. But then it disappeared in 1948. One final edition was held in 1983, and was won by Pascal Simon who then went on to take the Yellow Jersey on stage 10 of the Tour that year, only to break his shoulder blade the following day. He managed, incredibly, to hold the jersey for six days. Proof, if needed, that the Lost Races of the Côte d’Azur provide tough riders. RIDERS' NOTES Boucle de Sospel Full RouteCol de Nice Col de Braus Col de Castillion Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series.

Monti Muri Officine Mattio Lemmas. Finest Italian carbon. Lightweight wheels. SRAM RED eTap electronic gears. When our new fleet of rental bikes have arrived at the café in Nice, we had to give them a test. Luckily we have a tame racing cyclist: French Masters Champion and pro-beater Kong Fùfù, bien sûr. But where? There are long climbs and beautiful climbs in our back yard. But we wanted a sterner challenge, so we took an Officine Mattio home to Italy. In Italy they build roads differently. No messing about: steep ramps, straight up. Walls. In Italian: muri. Just over the Italian border, only 50km from the Café, we found some. Tiny side roads with signs pointing to villages you never heard of. Gradients of over 10% for 15 minutes. Ramps of 30%. Muri. We took our human rocket, gave him the Officine Mattio and pointed him upwards. Let battle commence: on one side gravity; on the other side, physical ability and the strongest of wills. Stomp down on the pedals, go go go. No chance to appreciate the view. The olive groves or the greenhouses or the Mediterranean far below. Just darkening vision, lactic acid, the taste of blood in the mouth. Out of the saddle, en danseuse, it’s almost like he’s running up the climb, rather than cycling. The bike and him are one. It’s an impressive sight. So we take another lick of our gelato. THE FULL LIST OF THE CLIMBS:Ventimiglia - strava Ciaixe - strava Brundetti - strava Airole - strava Strada Ciappe Climb - strava

Les Courses Disparues #1 : Nice Mont-Agel It started with a 500m mark on the road, a little faded perhaps, a little chipped certainly but still there after who knew how long. Further up the climb of Mont Agel, we saw something else. A line this time, a finishing line and confirmation that this now quiet and almost deserted piece of tarmac had once been home to noise and jostling crowds. Where we ride is a high powered training destination, a visiting cyclists' Mecca and a local riders dream. But once upon a time it was also home to a plethora of pro-races. A selection of events that took advantage of the best conditions in Europe but which, despite many having a gloriously storied past, have disappeared into the mists of time, as thick as those which periodically cover the local peaks. They are the ‘lost races’ - Les Courses Disparues - of the Côte D’Azur. Like so many others, the Nice - Mont Agel race was invented by a sports journal. Sometimes known as Monaco-Mont Agel, the exact point of departure varied considerably during its fifty years of existence. Higher than Col de la Madone and with numbered switchbacks à la Alpe d’Huez which are now frustratingly out of bounds, Mont Agel itself was the immoveable constant across that time. The original idea may have been to generate interest and income from an early season race in a glamorous location, and attract the rising stars of a growing sport, but what was created was effectively an uphill group time trial. In simple terms - a brutal war of attrition, from the relative comfort of the lower slopes start to the rocky heights of Mont Agel via the famous Mont des Mules lacets, lying then, as they do now, in the eastern shadows of the neighbouring Tête de Chien. Wars shouldn't be re-fought but wheel tracks can be followed, with a little help from Michel (who actually competed in the last amateur version of the race back in 1984) and Kong Fùfù who can beguile an audience with tales of training on the slopes of Mont Agel alongside pros such as Alexander Blain. The only way was, and still is, up. Sixteen kilometers to the top and as Henri Pélissier said 'It is a question of breathing out everybody, of not letting anyone rest or recover…”. Here speaks a man who should know. Along was his brothers, Henri was an early pioneer of the race and won the first three editions (plus a Milan San-Remo, two Paris-Roubaix and the 1923 Tour de France). 1923 was a dramatic edition, with thick snow and treacherous ice covering the final lacets on the approach to the fort and forcing all but one of the racers to climb on foot. Not a scene you would associate with a French Riviera race. Retracing the route, it's clear that it's once you reach the upper slopes, after a brief dalliance with La Turbie, the Mont Agel test really gets tough. The average gradient increases to 8% for the section between the Route de Peille and Monte-Carlo Golf Club. It remains a lesser-known road for many local and visiting riders but a fine testing for resident pros who litter the top of the Strava leaderboards. The views from the switchbacks cut into the rock over Cap Martin and Monaco are stunning. Unsurprisingly then it’s the super grimpeurs that dot the history books of the event. It was here that the Eagle of Toledo, Féderico Bahamontes – recognised in 2013 as the best climber in the history of the Tour de France – took his first professional victory in 1954. Kong Fùfù may not live in quite such exalted company but he breathes a similar air. On the preceding Mont des Mules section which measures 4.2kms at 6% he has second fastest time of 10:33, 36 seconds behind professional Lieuwe Westra. Not quite an angel but close. The real angels of Agel are those who prospered most on the same strips of hardcore. They weren’t Frenchmen but an Italian, Luigi Barral, and a Spaniard, José Gil. Each took five victories in the race and should have ridden their names into cycling legend but instead lie forgotten to all but a diminishing few. The race eventually disappeared because of the rapid spread of development and the increasing population density. The complications of threading the event through the ensuing chaos providing too much for those charged with finding a way. And when it did the names of the angels of Agel disappeared with it. The lost racers evaporating with their lost race. All that’s left are fading memories for some, just grainy pictures for others. Both conjuring a sense of purity in that hill climb format, a sense of excitement at the combination of the battle against gravity and the one day do-or-die ethic. And the roads themselves. More lonely now perhaps than they once were but still offering the same challenge they always have. A challenge we’re all free to take on in any way we so choose. Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series.

From sand to snow Yvonne, the old proprietor of the bar at Camp d'Argent ski station is puzzled as to why two cyclists should arrive at her establishment just as the sun is setting and the last of the lessons for the kids on school holidays are finishing. "Where have you come from?" she asked. It was the question Kieran had been waiting for: "The beach in Menton of course!" "Vous êtes fous!" replied Yvonne. Craziness is a matter of perspective: in the cycling world, to ride on the sandy sunny beach in the morning and on the snowy forest trails in the afternoon makes a whole lot of sense. This is a ride of concentrated excellence. We wax lyrical about where we ride. We tell you about our choice of merino products that breathe to regulate temperature but warm when the air bites. Marketing hype? Well, here we are to put our money where our mouths are. And to hurt our legs in the process. The idea for this ride was born a year ago, as we went to watch the world rally cars blast their way over the Col de Turini during the famous Rallye Monte-Carlo. Searching for a spectating spot between the trees we found ourselves walking along a cross-country ski piste and thinking, this could be fun to ride on a bike. Cut to drinking espressos in the Café, shooting the breeze with Kieran, a former professional road racer turned mountain biker, about the possibility of riding that ski piste and the concept snow-balled into a bigger idea to ride from sand to snow. Never shoot the breeze with a mountain biker. They are a different sort. Yes, there is is an overlap of interests between road biking and mountain biking, touring and racing, but is there the perfect ride that can please everyone? If we categorise our cycling, is there an hors catégorie ride that pleases all of the riders, that captures the spirit of why we all ride? Two weeks later and here we are sitting on the sea wall in Menton looking up at the peaks that jut out above the clouds, formed where the sea breeze meets the mountain air, reminding ourselves of the route that will take us from the sand in front of the old town to the snow. Sand, tarmac, gravel, tarmac, gravel, tarmac, gravel, snow, gravel, tarmac, snow. In that exact order. The one simple element of this ride will be that it is up. Ever up, from sea to sky. That's exactly what Stage 16 of the Tour de France did back in 1950 in an era when the grande boucle used to visit these mountains much more than it does today. Stage 16 started in Menton over the Col de Castillon and Col de Turini. But that's pure road racing, la tète dans le guidon, with a focus on the finish line rather than absorbing the beauty of the area. Sure, we want to taste that heritage and, like the more famous climbs of the Tour, imagine the riders of old battling on the very same piece of tarmac that we roll on. But we also have to please the mountain bikers we're riding with. So at Monti, one third of the way up the Col de Castillon, we take a right to attack the first gravel secteur. Climbing on gravel is a novel experience to the road rider, the concentration required to pick the smoothest, fastest line distracting from the sting of the gradient. It's meat and drink to cross-country mountainbikers (and maybe boring to downhill adrenaline junkies), but what it provides for everyone is immersion into the quieter parts of the alpine foothills. And that's something every cyclist loves, no? Between Monti and Col de Braus we head into the wild. Gravel, tarmac, gravel. And cols. Col des Banquettes, Col de Ségra, Col du Farguet and finally Col de Braus; all in a mere 35kms. There is something special about arriving at a col by gravel rather than the traditional route. The smugness factor is high. Over a thousand metres high to be exact. It's February 16th and we are in warm sun, eating lunch in the grass just above the René Vietto memorial. René is known for his punishing and extreme training ethic. We wonder if his disciplined regime ever allowed him to venture off the beaten track. Does every ride have to be hard like René's? Does it have to involve suffering? It is maybe like choosing a favourite album - the genre of your ride really depends on your mood at the time. There is the café ride, the endurance ride, the training intervals ride, the social ride. But if we are looking for the perfect do-it-all ride (do we call it the free ride or the soul ride?) then surely it has to be long enough, high enough, and tough enough with adventure and beautiful scenery to satisfy all the discerning cyclist's desires. Are we in the process of finding that sweet spot of riding? We can't make that judgement with a descent to Sospel and the big climb to Turini and the snow still to come. Turini is our big mountain. It matches any other climb you can find in Europe. A hors catégorie climb for this hors catégorie ride. Classic switchback road porn in the Gorge du Pion before another 90-right onto gravel at the tiny hamlet of Le Moulinet. And here comes the snow. In the shade, in between the trees on the dark side of the mountain. In the belly of the mountain you might say. It's steep, it's cold, and there is little traction. The gravel tyres that dragged on the tarmac are paying back their debt now. Emerging from the forest at Piëra-Cava we are greeted by a snow-lined avenue to the col. The light is fading and dapples through the branches from over our left shoulders. Golden hour has begun and it's pushing us to the summit before the sun dips below the western peaks. Up, ever up. And more up, because the objective is to reach the ski pistes at Camp d'Argent, which is to be found two and a half kilometres above the col itself. But in the end that didn't matter because three hairpins after leaving the col the vista, the sunset light, the cold misty air and the perfect tarmac below make us stop. We have found it. Cycling perfection. (But we went for cake and beer and to boast to Yvonne anyway.) RIDERS' NOTES Discover and download the route HERE

Into the Night "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Col d'Eze is 2kms away from our home in Nice's Old Port. Did we tell you that already? To say we are familiar with its slopes, its curves and the views from the Grande Corniche would be an understatement. We never get bored of riding King Kelly's Climb, but it can get a tad repetitive during those stolen lunch rides. Step up the darkness. Not many working souls are afforded the professional riders' ability to sleep until their body is ready to rise and shine and then ride on their own agenda through the crisp winter sun. So it's a choice between an indoor trainer session or strapping on the lights and getting out there. If you want to go fast (or long) in the summer, you have to go dark in winter. And it could be said that night riding is the new old. The first edition of the Tour de France required the race's pioneering competitors to pedal through the night to be able to finish the following afternoon, such was their brutal length. The very first stage of the Tour was no less than 467kms long. Ouch. And the last stage was directed to commence at 9pm so that the riders could complete the 471kms and arrive in the suburbs of Paris in daylight. It is little wonder that competitors sought some assistance behind motorcycles or stole a lift in a truck to make the inhuman humanly possible. It takes another level of mental strength to endure the dark and combined with the huge distances it was too much for many. That ultra-endurance approach of the early Tours has come full circle with events such as The Transcontinental Race. And the ever growing TCR starts in the dark at 10pm, as if to rudely reinforce the need for nocturnal pedalling to complete the task at hand . 'The first night and Belgium passed in a blur of darkness' was how it was described to us here. Endurance riders, being the authority on this topic, speak of the beauty of riding at night. Even the fatigue-induced hallucinations can be welcome, according to our two-time Paris-Brest-Paris and multiple Mille du Sud finisher, Michel Icard. 'It's like riding through a Walt Disney film' he told us. Yes the quiet of the night can be haunting but it is simultaneously refreshing. Col d'Eze is a beauty in the summer. But come winter the Grande Corniche is in winter hibernation. Take away the sensory distractions of noise and sight and, like a pilot at the Le Mans 24hr endurance race, the effort is distilled as you follow the narrow tunnel of light through the darkest sections around the back of the Observatory. And as you pass through the famous Quatre Chemins cross-roads you climb up to feel the cold air, hear the silence and see the lights that decorate the coast and surrounding hills like a set of jewels. Embrace the solitude as the nocturnal world becomes comfortably numb and just pedal and breathe. It's enlightening. For our night missions we use the Jacqueline Audax Gilet, the Arlette long sleeve Audax jersey, and the Lucette gilet, which all include high grade retroreflective sections to ensure maximum visibility. Find the Audax Collection here.

Café racers Day in and day out in the Café, our eyes receive a treatment of the latest, the greatest, the stylish, the vintage, the ugly and the odd from the world of the bicycle. It's a matter of taste, sure, but let's be honest; we all love judging (should we say analysing) another cyclist's machine. And actually, as a way of connecting with other cyclists it's a great conversation starter. Frame weight, componentry, gearing, motor in the bottom bracket? All these are important questions that have to be asked of any discerning cyclist and usually, behind every bike there is a story. So here is a selection of some of the many vélos that have rolled into Nice Port and crossed our door this summer, for your critical and ever so unforgiving eyes PETER'S TRAINING BIKE This bike belongs to Peter. Peter prefers to ride mountain bikes and not shave his legs but someone (we think the owners of this bike brand) pays him a lot of money to ride this particular bike (and others the same as it). We were very nervous about handling it but at least we got the valve stems at the bottom and the chain in the big ring. Strict rule-adherents might dislike the saddle bag, but it's a pro's prerogative. The story of this bike? The following week it's rider won the European Road Racing Championships. Will he successfully defend his title at the Worlds in Qatar next month? BADEN'S FACTOR ONEFactor Bikes made a splash when their first ultra-aero race bike offended the UCI's rule book. We asked the rider of this particular bike if we could photograph it, only to realise it was none other than Baden Cooke himself, Tour de France green jersey winner and co-owner of Factor itself. Baden spends half of each year in Monaco and with members of their sponsored One Pro Cycling team living or training on the Côte d'Azur, these bikes are a regular sight on the basse corniche. Black-Inc carbon wheels from Factor's sister company, Dura-Ace Di2 (recharged in the café during Baden's noisette and croissant) and an eye-catching all in one stem-handlebar piece mean this bike looks fast standing still. The following week we met Baden on the road and we can confirm that it looks just as fast disappearing over the hill between Beaulieu and Villefranche. MAX'S STINNER CUSTOM Tested in earnest on our recent Bunker Research Tour, this whole set-up was emphatically declared 'fit for purpose'. Once we get past Max's eye-catching 650b Compass tyres adorning the Jones wheels, we start to notice the beautiful custom Columbus steel frame and Enve CX forks, the Brooks saddle and, of course, the go-to SRAM Force CX1 gearing. The TRP HY/RD cable actuated hydraulic braking system was new to us. We suspect that Revelate luggage is actually full of obscure books about either French mountain goat shepherds, 50's Russian bus-stops, or both but what is for sure is that, with this bike, Max can go deeper into his beloved mountain obsession. REMI'S VICTOIRE CUSTOM VERSUS You've maybe seen this bike somewhere before (like here) - it's our co-founder Rémi's adventure - flying fish bike. It went head to head with Max's Stinner as the best looking adventure bike on the Bunker Research Tour, with minimalist luggage. And it proved to be one of the best equipped machines for the job - 42x42 gearing for steep bits, 40mm WTB tyres for the rough bits, custom rack for the fishing bits. It's such a nice bike we couldn't not include it. And yes, that is a fishing rod poking out of the bag on the rack. Once a river man, always a river man. CYCLE CAMELLINI'S ROLO This bike tipped the scales in our atelier at 5.8kgs with pedals. We worked out that overall this build cost just under 2,500€ per kilogram, or thereabouts. Almost as expensive as class-A drugs, but better for your health. No paint means less weight, carbon in-house Rolo cranks, stem and bars also save the grams meaning you the bike will off-set the calories in your post-ride beer. We did manage to set a PR on the Saint-Laurent d'Eze climb between the basse and moyene corniches on this machine despite what can only be described as two weeks of intensive de-training. We want to say #YOLO Rolo but we probably shouldn't (we'll pass that gem to their marketing team). PETER'S TRAINING BIKEThis bike belongs to Peter. Peter prefers to ride mountain bikes and not shave his legs but someone (we think the owners of this bike brand) pays him a lot of money to ride this particular bike (and others the same as it). We were very nervous about handling it but at least we got the valve stems at the bottom and the chain in the big ring. Strict rule-adherents might dislike the saddle bag, but it's a pro's prerogative. The story of this bike? The following week it's rider won the European Road Racing Championships. Will he successfully defend his title at the Worlds in Qatar next month?

Bunker Research Tour “Unlike the mountains, which speak of an eternity, the bunkers speak of a moment – the instant of a terrible and decisive impact – a moment, moreover, that never arrived ” (Bunker Research) Bunker Research, released earlier this year, is a book by two influential names in cycling : writer, Max Leonard, and photographer, Camille McMillan. It’s a work analysing the hidden history of modernism in the mountains. Those particular mountains happen to be where we ride , which might explain why a few months after publication we’re joining the bunker tour squad (consisting of author Max and touring specialist Stefan from Pannier.cc) in assembling and loading a fine gravel bike fleet with luggage to carry enough essentials for three days of extensive field research. “Once you realise the sheer number of installations crowding the hills, it occurs to you that the road or track you are on which at first seemed innocent, was originally built by the military, that it too has played a part in the drama” (Bunker Research) Those roads and tracks are known in France as Routes Stratégiques - roads built for military purposes to allow the passage of men, armoury, vehicles and all other military supplies required to defend the frontiére. And of course, those required to build the bunkers. For this trip they are our auto-routes, our quickest and our only options to get to the bunkers by bike. And they are mostly gravel. Within 30 minutes of leaving the Café we are on the first route stratégique which climbs the backside of Mont Leuze and Mont Fourche to Col d’Eze. And from there we climb further to Fort de la Revère which pre-dates the bunkers by 50 years - so as historical tours go, we’ve managed (by design, of course….) to start at the beginning of the timeline. But the Fort is big, commanding and obvious. What we’re hunting is an altogether different concrete beast. “Closer to the coast, the remains have been assimilated into the sprawl. They….nestle between the expensive villas of Cap Martin…You might pass them everyday and not give them a second glance” (Bunker Research) We would guess 99.9% of tourists never notice the Gros ouvrage du Cap Martin. Yet it housed 7 officers and 353 men. Looking over the cloche at the sun-bathers packing the beaches along the bay that leads to the Italian border around the next headland is a strange and contrasting experience. It’s ironic that this coastal cloche is one that saw a lot of action during the Battle of Pont Saint-Louis in 1940. “The Secteur Fortifé des Alpes-Maritimes became the most heavily guarded sector of all the Alps. It was also the most varied, reaching almost to the Col de la Bonette….Its architects and engineers had to be more inventive than in the flatlands of the north, where construction was more standardised, and they produced some extravagant forms in response to the challenges of the terrain” (Bunker Research) That engineering involved converting many of the mountain peaks into underground batcave-esque labyrinths. The rounded weathered shapes visible on the surface are but the tips of, for want of a better phrase, a concrete iceberg. The Gros Ouvrage Sainte-Agnés (half-way up our beloved Col de la Madone) with it’s southern and northern facing cloches is a prime example of an installation inside an entire peak. We see it from a distance as we skirt behind Sainte-Agnés to join our next route stratégique across to the Col de Castillon. That particular military route is a great roller-coaster secteur of gravel that starts with a dive down and climb up two opposing sets of lacets traversing the valley between Cime de Bausson and Col de Verroux and then follows the contours of the mountain across to Col de Castillon. “The basin around Sospel, one hump away from the sea, was especially heavily guarded. Here, gun turrets encircle the town, bunkers hide in crannies of rock and cloches stand guard in olive groves” (Bunker Research) The Gros Ouvrage de Castillon looks directly eastwards across the valley, right into the eyes of the Italian fascist threat as it was (or was perceived to be) in the 1920s when the construction of the bunkers commenced. We don’t hang about too long in case the Italians attack (or maybe just in case we don’t get down to Sospel before the super-marche closes.) Sospel has long been a trading town, situated on the Bevéra river with a bridge which was used to levy taxes on those wishing to cross. And it’s where we needed to stock up for the night’s camp on Monte Grosso above. Bread, cheese and, of course, wine. Always wine. “Gradually, you sense the vast empty networks of tunnels below your feet and begin to imagine those deserted places busy with men, humming with life.” (Bunker Research) Our next route stratégique is a cul de sac with one obvious purpose. To serve the huge installation on Monte Grosso which is our accommodation for the night. Kind of. Sleeping on top of a bunker - that was one of the main objectives of this trip. The retractable, rotating, shell-firing turret (that strangely has been raised since Bunker Research last visited the site) provided the ideal sideboard. Sleeping on top is a bit of a cheat when you think of the long days, weeks, months that the soldiers spent underground waiting for the onslaught. The terra firma version of a sub-marine. We breathe the fresh air and only fear the attack of insects borne from the foliage that gradually wraps itself round the concrete. But the atmosphere is filled with the presence of the huge matrix of officers mess, soldiers’ barracks, artillery rooms, lifts and mini-railways for transporting ammunitions that lies beneath. “When you cycle a mountain road it winds like a ribbon, wrapping itself across the contours as it climbs. Bunker research meant approaching the terrain more laterally: finding the sightlines across the hardest points to reach - understanding the Alpes-Maritimes as a military conundrum as well as a sporting playground.” (Bunker Research) And so it was that we hiked our well-packed ‘lightweight touring’ bikes for 3 hours. Up 800m of vertical. The bikes didn’t feel so lightweight by the end. Through forests first, then out onto open peaks, then up through more trees which eventually reveal a vertical wall of long bush grass filled with the entire world’s population of grass hoppers. Antton the photographer eventually confesses his craving for a bucket full of blueberries from his native Finland. But smartly he does so only after we’ve scaled the highest peak. Will we make the Italian refuge on the other side of Col de Tende after this? “Today, the whole of the Roya valley has the air of a no-man’s-land. It is neither France nor Italy, but rather just what it is” (Bunker Research) A bucket full of Finnish blueberries wasn’t on offer in Breil-sur-Roya, so instead immersion in the river was the cure before the drag up the valley before the left turn up towards Casterino. Casterino? Which side of the border are we? Who cares when the climb to the town is so beautiful. It gives a sensation of the high-alps with its trees, silky smooth tarmac, switchbacks and the cascading river which is too much of a temptation to the tenkara fly-fisherman in our midst. He unwraps his rod from his seatpack, picks his spot on the appropriate boulder, and hunts his prey like a sniper in a bunker…. only much much different. We definitely aren’t going to make that Italian refuge. “De Gaulle…used (t)his final assault on the Authion to make a play for the strategic Tende pass and, three days before victory in Europe, he achieved it. Tende became French for the first time in a hundred years only upon the signing of the Paris peace treaties in 1947.” (Bunker Research) Our strategic play for Tende before nightfall was obviously going to fail due to aforesaid hiking and fishing activities. Shelter in Casterino? Not on this busy bank holiday weekend. Instead we find ourselves being greeted by the lovely people at the converted mining village of Vallauria, who insist that we sit down and eat before finding our rooms. Every accommodation should be like this. It’s ironic that for our second night we find ourselves at what was another sub-terranean station, albeit fighting the rocks to mine lead. And it allows us to attack Tende early the next morning via possibly the best gravel road in the world. The loop above Casterino is take your breath away stunning (and unbelievably is still used for cars when the Tende Tunnel is closed). Leaving civilisation, it’s as steep as it is scenic. The cascade is dry which dissapoints our fisherman. As we approach the top of the Casterino valley on the ridge at the Baisse de Peyrefique are Italian bunkers, built by Mussolini’s forces and noticeably different in appearnce from their French counterparts. These are more obviously out in the open, surrounded on this particular day by farmers chasing huge herds of cattle and grass tracks begging us to put our wheels on them. Pourquoi pas. Beyond the ridge, the road flattens and curls itself round the mountain, with the final left turns revealing an epic side profile of Col de Tende as it winds it’s 65 hairpins up the mountain to the huge Fort Central and its surrounding protective bunkers. “Whether you are driving, riding a bicycle or hiking along a marked path, you realise that you are under surveillance. The dead eyes above are tracking your progress, ready to fire down upon you.” (Bunker Research) We arrive at the Col to find hordes of bank holiday tourists, with their cars and their sun visors crowded around the Chalet de Marmotte. People are actually sun-bathing on deck-chairs. At a 1,800m high ski chalet. But we have been places where they have not been and seen things that they have not seen. We are more than aware of the dead eyes above. And the Fort Central is so big, we go riding in and through it. The hugh matrix of empty rooms amplifies the atmosphere created by these abandoned buildings. Their silence, as they say, is deafening. “There are now no longer any soldiers who manned them still alive, so this bunker research captures them poised between memory and oblivion.” (Bunker Research) After descending from the Fort Central, past its protective bunkers below we roll ever so smoothly on the valley floor towards Tende. On this central route between leading to Piedmont we spy an almost Route 66-esque machine gun post turned mini-visitor centre, with garish signs and manequins covered in army uniforms. We share a wry smile as we realise someone else noticed them too, and thought they’d make a few cents. Footnotes: Photography - Antton Miettinen. Text - Max Leonard

What about Joe ? We’d been told there would be no helicopters. That the Mercan’Tour National Park didn’t care if it was the second biggest Grand Tour in the world, that this beautiful landscape only stays that way by not giving in to commercial pressures. We were told wrong. The sudden thump of rotor blades announces the aerial armada from the southern side of the mountain and heads turn upwards to see the single dot in the sky circle the Cime de la Bonette. It's not alone for long. Another appears and then another. The race is close. There may be whirly birds but there is definitely NO caravan on this mountain and with only one bar of 3G, every 15 minutes or so getting information is like pulling teeth. Eventually Twitter tells us that Nieve is 9 minutes up the road with a chasing group between him and the peloton. But what about Joe? The motos arrive first at the deserted military camp below. Then the cars. Will we see that bright green jersey that we're waiting for? A sole rider, obviously Nieve, appears as if from nowhere, inching towards us. We’ve got almost a 10 minute view of the approach to our vantage point 1.5kms before the GPM. That’s good spectating for us and a painful slog for the riders who’ve already climbed 19.5kms from Jausiers. Standing on the 80cms strip of gravel between the remaining snow banks and the road, we still expect a gendarme to tell us to stand back. But this is the Col de la Bonette, and the road has been closed for 3 hours so the crowds are limited. We have our toes on the tarmac as the peloton approaches. What about Joe? It’s the very same tarmac that we rode yesterday with some friends and partners. A bit of local knowledge and forethought had us staying in the Gite de Bousieyas; located on the southern side of the climb, 12kms down from the Col on what will be the penultimate descent of the stage. The objective was to remind ourselves of why we are all in this industry, to use the great leveler of riding mountains together for a shared experience away from daily business life. (It also happened to be good preparation for La Mercan'Tour Café du Cycliste). From London, Copenhagen, Vienna and the Ariege (Pyrenees) the Café du Cycliste Giro team arrived in Nice on Thursday afternoon and were sharing a beer that evening outside the gite whilst Claude, our host, had his binoculars out to observe the deer on the slopes across the valley, as if to make the point that this is no ordinary corporate jolly. Claude and his wife, Laurence, choose to live and operate their business in a commune that is only served by a clear road for 6 months of the year, such is its height halfway up the climb. They serve us a dinner cooked from hand-picked produce, with local wine and washed down by their specialty aperitif - thé de hysope - from the slopes we are here to climb, which hopefully has performance benefits similar to Vincenzo Nibali’s acupuncture treatments….. But what about Joe? Everyone’s legs are tired after yesterday’s efforts. Starting with 8% gradients on a 12kms climb with less oxygen than normal was no easy introduction. The joke from last night’s dinner conversation about your Garmin telling you you’re at 105% of your max heart rate is becoming reality. Fast forward to the other side of Jausiers and the 'smaller' ascent of the Col de Vars. Wise men in the group realize the easy start means the latter half of the climb may have a kick to it. And indeed it did. Was this justification for the 4 course meal including a cheese board in Jausiers prior to the ascent of the northern side of Bonette? Possibly not. Some of us push on the final climb, some enjoy the view – you get what you want from cycling, there is no right or wrong way to ride. And Joe? Joe? More dots appear below us, interspersed with motos and cars. No bright green jersey yet though. A pair of riders, one from IAM Cycling and one from Etixx Quickstep seem to be riding without conviction - a chasse patate perhaps. And then the main breakaway appears with our man on the front. Don’t do too much work Joe! Local knowledge means he’s doing his turn before the wind hits on the final 2km approach to the Col (we hope). We wait anxiously as the group climbs towards us. Max takes another swig of brandy from his hip flask to calm his nerves. He is the most personally invested in Joe’s performance today. The group approaches us at a good consistent pace, working well together at this stage to stay away. And Joe. He looks like he’s on a Sunday ride. So smooth, so relaxed, he pops a two-fingered peace sign to Max with a huge smile on his face as he rides past us. We are immediately convinced he will win the stage. We have to wait for the peloton and pretend we care about them before being able to ride back up past the GPM signs and descend down to the gite to get plugged into the WIFI and live stage coverage. The question still on everyone's mind; ‘What about Joe?’ On the descent we also wonder if Camille got the shots he hiked one hour and many meters up to the fort above the gite for. The life of a photographer is sometimes unenviable - choosing the ideal location, gambling with the weather, adapting to the light - it seemingly has as many variables and chance as it takes to do what Joe was attempting - to win a grand tour stage. Some of the team depart early to make flights home but three of us remain huddled around an iPad on the floor in the dormitory, with the door wedged open to ensure a strong WIFI connection as Joe attacks on the Col de la Lombarde. Now what about Joe? Two days after the finish of the race Joe is in the Café buying his mum birthday presents and sharing thoughts on which Niçois restaurant to take her to. His parents have been in Europe for a week not only cheering on their boy but riding the climbs of the race before him. That’s passion. Of course, he’s disappointed not to have won the stage - he wanted that win badly. But he tells us he had fun on his ‘home’ roads and that it was great that friends and family cheered him on the Bonette and Lombarde climbs. Much like we did with our friends and partners. Same mountains, same sport, same enjoyment, different viewpoints. The beauty of cycling in two days; objective achieved.

The cannibal & the couillole Eddy Merckx, wearing the yellow jersey, rode the Col de la Couillole in 1975 on the way from Nice to Pra-Loup during Stage 15 of that year's Tour. It was a day that went down in Tour history - just as the first edition of La Mercan’Tour Café du Cycliste will take a prominent place in the cycling albums of the 499 lucky riders who tackle the same Col before the finish line in Valberg. The Tour riders had enjoyed a rest day in the sun before they set off, and it was much-needed for Eddy who had been punched in the kidneys by a spectator while chasing an attack on the Puy de Dôme. Meanwhile, Bernard Thévenet, who managed to drop Merckx on the previous stage was obviously condisering another day of courage in the hope of being in yellow for Bastille Day. It’s impossible to say what was going through the mind of the Cannibal as he turned onto the Col de Couillole. Most likely it was his default primary thought – “when will I attack and make them suffer“. But looking in the history books, surely there must have been some doubt - since the Tour had hit the Pyrenees and the climbs of the Massif Central he had been losing time to Thévenet and Zoetemelk. On top of that, during the rest day he’d been forced to consume a concoction of painkillers and, worse, blood thinners as a result of that punch. Riders on La Mercan’Tour may have their own doubts when they exit the Tinée valley to start the 15.9kms climb from Saint-Sauveur-de-Tinée. Look at the profile on Strava and you’ll see one of utter consistency, which after Cols Cayolle and Bonette can only be interpreted as one thing – no breaks. But unlike Merckx and his fellow riders in 1975 who had to face three more major climbs, the Couillole is the final climb of the day on La Mercan’Tour. The experinence of riding it will be defined by the amount of remaining energy reserves of each rider, so like any climb, it’s best to break it down in sections. The first few kilometres are still beside the Tinée valley and can be spent admiring the increasingly higher view of Saint-Sauveur sitting pretty on the elbow of the river below. Track the steep chemins and goat tracks on the other side of the valley and be thankful for the smooth tarmac below you. The second section leaves the Tinée valley behind and winds it’s way up the deep Vionène river valley towards Roubion, which sits tantalisingly on the skyline in the distance. After riding through the rocks and tunnel a few straighter sections might have been where Merckx would have attacked had he been en forme, streaking off in the distance allowing his competitors to see his strength as he left. But not on that day in 1975. Emerging from the gorge-like valley, arrival at Roubion signals that only 5kms of the climb remain. We wonder if Eddy was apprehensive approaching the village, fearing the locals on the roadside might throw another fist. We can imagine him surrounding himself with a wall of domestiques to ensure there was no repeat of the incident. The road hairpins left at the entry of the commune to head into the more open, alpine section of the climb. Meadows, a wider road and signs for the ski slopes signal that the final summit of a big, big day is edging closer. A final effort up through pine trees straightens then kinks before the Col itself. At this stage with the first major climb done maybe Merckx decided he was strong enough to increase the pressure and then attack on the penultimate climb, the Col d’Allos. He would then try and hold on for the uphill finish to Pra-Loup. That attack did, of course, get him a gap and caused chaos behind, with the Bianchi team car crashing off the road and ejecting its mechanic as it tried to keep up. But it also led to the Cannibal's famous défaillance on the final slopes before Pra-Loup. A rare moment of weakness which showed that he was in fact mortal, and is memorable exactly because of his otherwise impenetrable strength. One other lesser known fact from the 1975 Tour – it was the year they introduced the polka dot jersey to increase recognition of the climbers' competition. It took its design from the wrappers of Poulain chocolate, the first sponsors of the jersey. Now there is something every finisher of La Mercan’Tour will deserve – recognition for their climbing heroics. And chocolate. If you need a summer target but prefer to do it away from the maddening crowds of the Marmotte and the Etape du Tour in one of France's most beautiful national parks, within a 1.5 hour drive from the beach, sign up for La Mercan'Tour Café du Cycliste